ill be in death valley in four days. looking forward to it.

My apartment in Delhi has had the same watchman forever now. I have seen him grow up. From 40 to 60. I hope he is ok when I get home in one month. The hard truth of life, in Agent Smith’s words - “Life has one purpose. The purpose of life is to end.” In this moment, 3 am, sitting with my worries and petty tasks held close to my heart, I believe this is forever. It isnt. There is no forever. Everything ends, and the realization that it all ends someday makes it finite. And when we know something is finite, you use it more judiciously. Note to self - love your days more Sanjay. You’re growing up with the watchman too.

I’m training on ColdFusion this week. It combines app server programming very well with XML. if Microsoft or Sun/Oracle doesnt kill it, ColdFusion definitely is the internet programming language of the future.

Aah. Grunge.

Evening Sun, shrouded in mist,
I think the day stole your fervor, took its toll on you,
you burned me at noon, now, you’re cold,
craving for rest, kissing farewell to a sky lit blue.

Evening Sun, stop living by the clock,
I wished you to stay, but you just do your usual ten hours,
what if you delayed the darkness longer here tonight,
would in the intergalactic setup, that create administrative sparks?
Will the interplanetary timekeeper report you to your boss, the Milky Way watchman,
who may penalize you, cut your pay of hydrogen?
Will that, in any way, matter to you,
you’ll still be spinning there; your duty is your eternal damnation.

I see, you’re so diligent not for fear of punishment,
that’s who you are – dutiful and punctual;
you like doing your job well, it’s an important one,
in your long strained revolving life, only motion is perpetual.

I know you don’t love me enough to stay,
but Andromeda, do you ever speak with her?
She misses you, while you serve a galaxy less thankful,
you stay away, and alone, you burn.

Me, I forgive you,
if not with you, I’ll have my swim under the moon,
but you worry me, your restlessness,
behind those bright eyes, I see the gloom.
Unlike you think, you do not have forever,
before you know it, ten billion years will be gone,
Andromeda will come to you, if not you to her,
and all that will remain of you, will be memories and stone.

- Me

with Boki. I’m in love with this area - I see indians all around, and theres a madras cafe right around the corner. Feels like home. And yes, lots of beautiful places around. If youre the kind that finds beauty in parks and other mundane stuff, youll love it here. i love it here :)

Activities - Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.Coldplay, watchmen, and other random online comics. I just downloaded Spawn - I also possess a sketching pad. Time to draw.

I find myself wanting to escape everything. Either the places don’t belong to me, or I don’t belong anywhere. Not antisocial, or asocial, but solitude is important. Not just in body, but also in spirit. A solitude uniterrupted by phone calls, worries, emails and brain noises.

I have felt that solitude sometimes, and whenever i have, it has left me feeling complete. I know I’ll spend this life chasing it, only to never find it. I’ll shuffle from one noise inside my mind to the other. Sometimes the noise of pain, sometimes of sorrow, noise of crimes, things done wrong, things left incomplete, things once possessed but now lost.

I wish to go back to some points in time, but never forward. Because I am almost convinced that the forward is never better than th bygone. I wish to challenge this thought, and prove myself wrong. But it’s like fighting gravity, in the end you’ll lose.

Back to work now.

The Purple Haze club. Also held considerable brand equity at other prominent pubs such as BJP (not so prominent if you haven’t spent some time in IT slums of koramangala/indiranagar). The club is now dissolved, with its members having moved in different directions. Only to reunite later.

I’m somewhat returning to alternative after a long relationship with country, folk and classical. Tool is fresh even after all these years.

My blog dies and resurrects more times than Jason/Freddie/Boogeyman do.

The last time it died, this is what I wrote to justify the demise and the subsequent revamp of my interest in revamping it (in italics) -

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Death 2.0

I diagnosed that my blog died a premature death because I linked it to Facebook Notes, thereby restricting personal expression by the fear of judgment and confirmation that comes tagged with broadcast media.

That mistake has now been corrected.

Then, I did not write again. ever.

I think it was because blogger isnt futuristic enough. I don’t like the look-feel. So i’m here now. I think my diagnosis of why my blogs die and come back and die has lost all credibility. So i’ll just try keeping this more regular.